


Deflection

by kageillusionz



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Arguing, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Erik has Feelings, Face Punching, Fluff, Hate Sex, M/M, Paris (City), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageillusionz/pseuds/kageillusionz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is cathartic feeling his knuckles make contact against the jaw. Where both sides seek release, answers, and then some.</p><p>Takes place-post plane ride after they land in Paris. Spoilers for DOFP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deflection

**Author's Note:**

> My heartfelt thanks go to **ang3lsh1, EbonyTavern, and ourgirlfriday** for their invaluable support, input and betaing skills, without which this wouldn't be nearly half as good. Any lingering mistakes are my own.

The last time they had fucked was over a decade ago.

That had been a mistake. The sort of mistake that had gone from 'heated discussion of different ideologies over a game of chess to oops my cock is now in you. How did that happen?’.

It was an accident of great proportions, if the last decade was any indication, of what sleeping with Erik Lehnsherr could do to a man. Charles Xavier would recommend the activity 0/10 to anyone who considered the activity, no matter how gorgeous Erik looked in a three piece suit, his turtlenecks, or his birthday suit.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to leave you two alone like this?" Hank asked, sending furtive looks at the couch that Erik had claimed as his own. The television was on, casting flickers of light all over the persian rug. The knobs had turned on their own with a casual pulse of Erik’s power and Erik glowered at the screen as he fiddled with the antennae for a decent signal. Logan had already lit up another cigar and was waiting impatiently by the door.

No one had been fazed to know that the Xaviers owned prime real estate in Paris. Then again, it was difficult to be surprised after seeing the majesty that was Greymalkin Lane, Charles supposed. But Charles had always been fond of the view and nothing could ever beat French bakeries.

“I don’t like the idea of just leaving the pair of you alone like this! It’s not safe!”

“What—” Charles said with a lift of his eyebrow, “—do you think Erik can do to me that he already hasn’t? Maybe he’d actually manage to snap my neck this time with the radiator.”

"That's not funny, Charles." Hank shot him a look, one that could melt glass with his exasperation. Even without the use of his telepathy, Hank would always worry about his well-being. Last Charles checked, the serum had left him without his ability, not divested him of his intellect.

Charles sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tucking the long strands behind his ear. “Thank you for your concern, Hank. You’ve been an amazing help to me all these years. I really don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.” He changed tactics, deciding to appeal to Hank’s more practical side. “But since we already have most of the rooms airing, we are in desperate need of other supplies and it’s better if you and Logan go. I don’t think Erik would intentionally hurt me.” No more than he already has, goes unsaid.

"Sooner we go, the sooner we can come back," Logan growled from around his cigar. He looked to be busy examining his cuticles.

Reluctantly, Hank finally left but not without him shooting one last dubious glance before Logan shut the door. The wink Logan sent him had been perplexing. Charles had the sneaking suspicion it was because Logan was trying to set them up again; he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan was a subscriber to the ‘beat it out or fuck it out of your system’ way of thinking.

Not that that would ever work on him now; Charles had learnt his lesson when it came to dealing with Erik.

For the most part, Charles chose to ignore Erik and his television fiddling ways, trooping off to take a shower to wash off all the grime and dust. There had been thankfully some soap underneath the sink, questionable as the origins may have been. Something about Transatlantic flights made his skin crawl and maybe, just maybe, his hair needed a wash. Possibly also a comb.

All he could think about during his shower was Erik. Once upon a time, thinking about Erik was pleasurable — would have _led_ to something infinitely more pleasurable — but now it left Charles with a overwhelming sense of emptiness deep inside of him. It was dangerous.

The punch at the Pentagon had been cathartic, but... But not nearly enough to quell so many years of living inside of his skull by himself. Between them, there were regrets and still an ocean of unspoken dialogue left to explore. Charles somehow doubted Erik would be interested.

That had always been their problem, Charles thought as he scrubbed his body crudely with soap. Communication had never been their strongest point, instead always choosing the path that lead to explosive sex, bone-tired limbs and the shared opinion to agree to disagree.

So absorbed with the introspection inside of his head, Charles didn’t realize he was alone until the sound of the toilet flushing startled Charles out of his thoughts. He whipped the shower curtain open to find Erik leaning against the bathroom counter, his gaze intent.

“Charles. We need to talk,” Erik said gravely.

“Oh yes, jump a poor bloke in the shower to have that talk, why don’t you? Mi casa es su casa after all.” The sarcasm was hard to keep out of Charles’ voice. “What’s so important that you couldn’t have waited till my shower was done.”

“You’ve certainly never minded before,” Erik said uncertainly, defensively crossing his arms over his chest, stretching the blue shirt already over arms that Charles had most definitely not missed in the past decade.

“Oh sorry, did you miss the memo? Things tend to change when you shoot someone in the spine.” It’s an ordeal to keep the bitterness out of his words.

“ _Deflected_. I didn’t pull the trigger. That woman did. Had I known you’d be there. I would have never—”

“Never what? It’s always do first, ask questions later with you, isn’t it?” The floral patterned curtains squeaked underneath Charles’ clenched fist.

“If we always do it your way, then nothing will ever get done. Not everyone has a castle to hide in, Charles.” Erik’s eyes flashed dangerously, pushing off against the counter to stalk closer to the white porcelain bathtub. “Not everyone has a family fortune to live off when you while away for a decade.”

“Hide?” Charles scoffed. “You think I was hiding? Is that what you think? You have no idea, Erik. Didn’t even think to check in on me or the boys when you fucked off. I _tried_. I tried building a safe haven for my students. I tried finding teachers who weren’t afraid to work around mutations all the time. All that time, all those mutants. Yes, including the humans that you scoff at. Contrary to popular belief, there are many who were happy to.”

“Oh? And where are they now, Charles? Where are your precious humans? Why was it only you and Hank when Logan found you?”

“The war happened,” Charles snarled. He palmed the water off when it became clear that Erik wasn’t going to go away. “The war took Alex and Sean away. Made my teachers and students bleed on foreign soil. Hank adamantly refused to leave me. His loyalty, a shining example to those who can learn from it.”

Erik didn’t even bat an eyelash, knowing a jibe when he saw one coming from a mile away.

“I remember a certain someone had said mutants ought to stay together.” Charles shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. “All those words only apply to select mutants, then? Only to mutants that would blindly follow you. Not once did you ever think to—”

Erik stepped closer, incensed. “You were the one that didn’t want to come with us. You _told_ us to go!”

The words were out of his mouth before Charles could think to say something else: “And you were always so good at following orders, weren’t you?”

Charles should have seen the fist coming. His head snapped to the side and he grappled to remain upright. The shower curtains tore from their mooring as he fell in the tub, almost knocking himself out on the porcelain of the bathtub. “You barbarian,” Charles snarled, rubbing at the side of his head where he had banged it with a hiss of pain.

Erik looked startled, staring down at Charles like a deer caught in headlights, mind catching up to what he had just done.  Again. “Charles… Oh G-d, I’m so sorry. Are you alright—?” His face hovered temptingly close when Erik fell against the side of the bathtub to help Charles sit up.

He took that opportunity for what it was and flung a glancing blow against Erik’s nearest cheek. It wasn’t a spectacular hit. In retrospect, Charles probably ought to have headbutted Erik for maximum damage. But his punch did as intended, sending Erik sprawling onto his back against the black and white checkered pattern of the bathroom floor.

Charles scrambled to follow his punch by leaping out of the bathtub and straddling Erik’s hips. The fabric of Erik's clothes darken from the points of contact with Charles' body. “What the fuck, Charles?”

“Fuck you, Erik,” Charles spat out, fisting his hands in Erik’s shirt and pulled him in close to slam their mouths together. It was a horrible angle, their teeth clacking together, saliva everywhere. The ache in his jaw throbbed from Erik's punch. They were horribly out of practise and the kiss wasn’t the best Charles has ever had. In fact, it was no where near close.

Erik yanked Charles back hard with a fist in his hair that prompted a yelp from him.

“Oh contraire,“ Erik growled. “If anyone’s doing the fucking around here, it’s me. You’re certainly prepared for it.” He said the last sentence with a solid grope to Charles’ wet and bare arse, a firm reminder that Erik was still unfairly fully clothed.

Charles would have to do something about that and quickly. His hand dipped down rub at Erik’s cock, already hard. If Charles didn’t know better, he’d never have pegged Erik as the sort to be aroused by the tussle they just had.

“Not everything is about you,” Charles growled, raising back onto his haunches followed by Erik leaning in close and pressing his face against Charles’ neck. The skin tickled when Erik breathed in deeply and then it smarted when Erik applied his teeth there. He rendered Erik’s shirt buttonless in his haste to remove it. Tiny pearl buttons scattered in every direction on the bathroom floor.

For every blossoming bruise Erik made, Charles ensured there were matching scratch marks on Erik’s back.

“Stop.” Charles pushed Erik’s face away. It was truly a pity that he couldn’t take advantage of the area he had hit.

“What? No,” Erik growled, disliking the distance now between them. Stubbornly, he continued to move closer and yet each time Charles denied him. “Why?”

“Not here, asshole. Really? On the bathroom floor?” Charles made a disgusted face. “I always knew you to be a romantic, Erik. No wonder your dance card is so full. Or perhaps everyone is attracted to vigilantes locked up in the Pentagon that fills that card up.”

“No. That last part is all you. Has always been you.” Erik glowered at him, his hands squeezing down on Charles’ hips hard enough to leave a bruise later. “Fine. Get off me then.”

They quickly divested Erik of the rest of his clothes and manoeuvred themselves onto the large double bed in Charles’ room, grappling at each other until Erik had Charles pinned down by the wrists.

Charles’ attempts at wriggling free proved to be futile when Erik couldn’t be bucked off, exhausted. It was unnerving how Erik was just… staring down at him. Erik’s poker face had always been impressive. But then, Charles had once known exactly what Erik thought. After having Erik’s attention focussed on him for so long without a word, Charles couldn’t resist the urge to squirm and cleared his throat.

“Look,” Charles said, trying to keep the rising panic at bay. Erik angry, he could handle. Erik who stopped to only look… well. That was a whole different kettle of fish. “Are we going to do this? I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been pressed into something just because I kissed you.”

“You aren’t.”

“Then what are we waiting for…?”

“We don’t have anything to… ease the way. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t want to hurt you, Charles.” The way Erik said it so matter-of-factly, so tenderly, was… adorable. A word that Charles oughtn’t apply to the likes of Erik.

Charles rolled his eyes childishly. Yes, Erik had said that once and they had both walked away from that incident a different man. “Trust you to think that sex is all about penetration. Look. I’ll suck you off, if you’ll do the same for me.”

After a moment of mental debate, Erik nodded curtly. Only instead of moving to the side and leaning against the headboard like Charles expected, Erik moved to straddle his face. Erik hesitated, apparently lost now that he was in position, looked to Charles for help.

This Charles could work with. “You’ve seen my penis before, Erik.”

Charles could almost hear the frown on Erik’s face. “That’s not it.”

“Then what? Let me guess, you’ve never done this before?”

He feels the huff of breath brush past his inner thigh and over the tip of his cock. “What gave that away, Sherlock?”

Charles hummed as he wrapped a hand around Erik’s cock — Christ, still as big as Charles remembered it. Someone could choke on it, if they weren’t too careful. “The lack of dick sucking that’s happening. And really, you’re in the better position for this… Just like giving a blow—”

Some lessons apparently stuck over the decade they were apart. Like the lesson that Erik could make Charles shut up the quickest by a) kissing him silent, b) fucking him or c) sucking on his cock like a champion.

Not one to be outdone, Charles guided Erik’s cock into his own mouth. He curled his tongue all around the head, getting reacquainted with the feel and taste of sweat and skin and a hint of pre-cum. Erik was big, possibly the biggest dick Charles had ever had the pleasure of being up close and personal with.

It was a battle of one trying to outdo the other, to see who could outlast the other. When Charles twisted his hand over Erik’s cock, Erik’s hand would fondle and roll his balls in his warm palm. Fingers pressed up against the perineum was matched by a curious finger swirling over sphincter muscles. Erik's fascination with his foreskin was reciprocated in Charles' enthusiastic exploration of Erik's circumcision scar.

The pressure mounted between them, escalating rapidly until Erik came in Charles’ mouth and all over his face, messy but perfect. Charles, a heartbeat later, came down Erik’s throat. The headrush was incredible, always better than any other high Charles had experienced, and it felt so good.

“A little warning next time,” Erik groused as he returned from the bathroom with a clean face and a warm wet towel for Charles to clean himself up with.

Charles gave himself a cursory wipe down and then tugged Erik back into bed. The towel lay abandoned on the bedside table. “I’m still angry at you.” The statement was ruined by a wide yawn as Charles nestled in against Erik's side. Erik tucked an arm underneath Charles’ head, graciously allowing himself to be used as a pillow.

“Are you going to take a nap?” Erik asked, drawing a sheet up to cover them both up with. He yawned widely showing off his teeth.

“Yes. It’ll be an angry one,” Charles mumbled as they both slowly drifted off.

A breeze wafted in through the open windows, sending the sheer white material of the curtains fluttering. It caressed over their sweaty skin but did not diminish the incredible heat that was generated between them. As easily as it snuck in, the breeze left the lovers through the window, and took with it the sound of quiet breathing.


End file.
